


Gamble

by Snegurochka



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-04
Updated: 2010-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snegurochka/pseuds/Snegurochka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I <i>could</i> watch my mouth," murmured Malfoy at last, his head down but a sly glance cast over his shoulder at Charlie, "or you could just teach me a lesson."</p><p>2,600 words. NC-17. Spanking porn. February 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gamble

** _slide_ **

A hand. That was all it took. With a tingling sensation spreading from his palm out through his fingertips, Charlie held his hand up in front of him and turned it. The feeling subsided. His palm wasn't even red.

He dropped it to his side again when Malfoy whirled on him, eyes wide, even as the light blow sent him stumbling forward with the other keepers. Charlie could only imagine what Malfoy must be thinking.

_What did you do that for?_ _What the fuck, Weasley?_

But he didn't say it. Charlie waited for it, steeling himself with a biting retort or a laugh and a lewd comment, but the opportunity never came. Malfoy only stared over his shoulder at Charlie, blinking at last and with a pretty flush creeping up his face.

"Get the fuck out there, Malfoy," growled Charlie, to cover the awkwardness. "And if I hear one more complaint about your hours, I'll haul you off to Azkaban myself."

Malfoy's face shuttered. "Would you, now," he mumbled, his gaze fiery beneath his newly obedient façade.

"Community service," barked Charlie, as the other keepers shook their heads at this, the twenty-seventh argument between the deputy boss and the new kid, and trudged out to the pens. "It don't mean you get to pick the community, or the service. Get your arse out there."

He sucked in a quick breath as the word _arse_ left his lips, his eyes widening when Malfoy appeared to do the same. Giving him a long look and then a petulant nod, Malfoy turned to follow the others.

Charlie slumped in the doorway, watching his retreating form and the way the fabric of those standard-issue work trousers fell across Malfoy's arse.

A _hand_. He glanced down and flexed his fingers at his side, remembering the spark that had jolted through him as they had connected with Malfoy's body. Not a cock, not a nipple, not a slow, probing touch inside his body in the dark, not even deft fingers moving in ways he was used to, over and inside of him. No, Charlie had just been turned on by something as simple, flat and ugly as an ordinary _hand_.

*

** _notch _ **

If he didn't know better, he'd think Malfoy was _trying_ to get another smack on the arse.

"This job is shit, Weasley."

"No self-respecting wizard should live in a tent and shovel dragon dung for a living, Weasley."

"My allowance surpassed your pay grade when I was five, Weasley."

The insults came fast and often, each one steaming Charlie's blood. Malfoy was just a spoiled kid, though, Charlie would remind himself, shaking his head and strolling off in the other direction, ignoring the way the palm of his hand itched.

"Books, Weasley?" Malfoy glanced around Charlie's cabin at that one, handing over the payroll form to sign but not making any move to leave. He folded his arms across his chest and smirked. "I didn't know you could read."

Despite his bulk, Charlie really wasn't one for physical confrontations or violence, but damned if Malfoy didn't crawl under his skin and rile him up. His fingers closed around Malfoy's arm after one insult too many, and a shiver went through him to find a surprising amount of lean muscle to Malfoy's bicep.

Malfoy drew in a breath but held still, his eyes averted.

"You want to watch your mouth?"

Malfoy's gaze shifted at that, not quite looking at Charlie but hovering, hooded, at the outskirts of his face. Charlie stumbled over his breath when he realised what Malfoy was staring at. Charlie wet his lips, taking his time and watching Malfoy unravel a little bit. He tightened his hold on Malfoy's arm and leaned in close.

"I said–"

"I heard you," snapped Malfoy, but he was all bark and no bite, that one, because in the next moment, he removed Charlie's grip around his arm. His chest rising and falling rapidly, Charlie let him do it, watching him carefully and trying to keep the moan from rising up in his throat at the touch.

Pulling his lower lip under his teeth as he glanced down, Malfoy held Charlie's hand up for inspection for a moment, his eyes raking over it from palm to fingertips. Finally, he raised his eyes and met Charlie's gaze, all while – oh, God. Oh, Christ. Malfoy slowly lowered Charlie's hand and in one deft movement turned away from him, his back to Charlie's chest, and settled Charlie's hand over the left back pocket of Malfoy's dirty work trousers.

"I _could_ watch my mouth," murmured Malfoy at last, his head down but a sly glance cast over his shoulder at Charlie, "or you could just teach me a lesson."

Charlie's fingers burned against the fabric of Malfoy's trousers, searing jolts urging him to raise his hand and let it fall down hard over the delicious curve of Malfoy's arse. Desire swam through him, prickling at him in entirely new ways. This was really damn kinky, even for him. He couldn't think of the right thing to say, so he did the only thing he _could _think of.

Curling his fingers slightly, he pressed them into the curve where Malfoy's arse met the top of his thigh, letting the feel of that firm handful warm him from the tips of his fingers through the rest of his body.

Malfoy closed his eyes.

After giving him a light squeeze, Charlie lifted his hand and brought it back down quickly, just a soft but meaningful swat.

Watching Malfoy inhale deeply through his nose and begin to tremble made it all worthwhile. Charlie rested his hand higher, at the small of Malfoy's back, and leaned in close to his ear.

"I think I'd better teach you a lesson, then."

Malfoy swallowed, then steeled his jaw. "I'm late for my shift." He turned away from Charlie and lifted his chin.

Ah. So he was going to play like that, was he? "Then you'd best get going," murmured Charlie, inhaling along the line of Malfoy's neck and letting the tip of his nose tickle the soft hair there. Abruptly, he pulled back and raised his hand again, giving Malfoy one more sound smack on the arse.

Malfoy took a sharp breath and stepped forward, squeezing his eyes shut briefly before reaching for the doorknob. Charlie watched with amusement as he clenched his fist over the cool metal. "Yes," said Malfoy at last, sparing one last glance over his shoulder at Charlie. "I guess I'd better."

He pulled the door open, stalking off down the hill and not looking back.

*

** _sear_ **

Charlie felt like flames were licking at his hand, but he couldn't stop; Malfoy's helpless moans were too addictive.

"What did you say to me?" he growled, his other hand reaching around to fist the front of Malfoy's open shirt while his right palm crashed down over Malfoy's arse. Malfoy clutched at the back of the sofa, trembling.

"I said your – oh, fuck, _harder_ – your sister's a whore."

_Smack_.

Sweat pooled at the back of Malfoy's neck, matting the edges of his hair and dampening the pure blond of it into something dirty and soiled. Charlie leaned in and mouthed at the spot under his earlobe, letting the moisture smear over his stubbled cheek. It wasn't so much that Malfoy's words angered him. They had, at first, until he realised it was all a game to Malfoy, all a way to rile Charlie up, all a way to ask for this.

_This _was exactly what Malfoy wanted. Charlie wasn't sure he'd ever stop being amazed at that. He also wasn't sure he'd ever be able to stop at _all_, now that Malfoy had him exactly where he wanted him. Each blow seemed to connect Charlie's bruised hand to a spot deep in his own body, a simmering arousal that couldn't get enough of Malfoy's taunts and attitude and the way he bent over that sofa so nicely, pressing his arse out and waiting for more.

His cock thick, Charlie paused for a moment, letting his hand rest gently over the fabric still covering Malfoy's arse.

Panting, Malfoy seemed annoyed that Charlie had stopped. His hair fell over his face as he leaned forward, and in another second, he'd collapsed to his elbows over the sofa. "Jesus, Weasley."

It might break the mood, he knew, but Charlie took a chance anyway. He'd never been the shy type, or the type to avoid saying exactly what was on his mind out of fear of losing a shag. There were always others to be had, after all. "So, what is it, then – punishment kink? Your daddy do this to you when you were a kid?"

Malfoy's head whirled to the side, and he cast a deathly glare at Charlie over his shoulder. "_No_," he bit out, but then he seemed to relax, his breath still coming in great gulps. He sighed, allowing a small smile. "The very opposite, actually. Never laid a hand on me."

Charlie furrowed his brow. Ah.

"Can we stop talking about my father now, please? And while you're at it, get your other hand down here, for God's sake." Malfoy tugged Charlie's free hand from his damp shirt down to his crotch, pressing it against his erection.

"Starved for affection, then." Charlie grinned, moving both his hands slowly and sandwiching Malfoy's hips in between them.

Malfoy glanced over his shoulder again and rolled his eyes. "This is hardly _affection_. You are an absolute brute."

Charlie's cock pulsed in his jeans at that. So, the pretty boy had a thing for rough men, did he? Charlie slid his left hand lower to cup Malfoy's balls and raised his right for another blow. "What did you call me?" He brought his lips close to Malfoy's ear again.

"A Neanderthal," breathed Malfoy.

Charlie's hand landed heavily, and Malfoy cried out, his lips parted and stained red.

"A brainless centurion."

Charlie pushed down a grin and ignored the sting in his palm, raining down several more blows. "I think you'd better watch what you say to me," he growled.

"Or what?" Malfoy was simultaneously trying to push himself forward into Charlie's left hand and back onto his right.

Charlie fumbled with both hands and murmured a stream of spells, biting back a moan as both their trousers slipped down and Charlie's cock brushed over Malfoy's bare hip. He grasped it and slid the tip lightly over the reddened skin of Malfoy's arse, smearing drops of liquid. "Or I'll spank you so hard you'll never sit down again," he whispered, "and then I'll hold you down and come all over this pretty arse of yours." He circled his thumb and forefinger around Malfoy's balls and tugged.

Malfoy's knees nearly buckled as he slumped against the sofa, whimpering.

"Now," said Charlie, his fingers sliding through the dampness of pre-come on Malfoy's arse and tickling him, "do you think you can shut your goddamn mouth for once?"

The cabin creaked with silence, Malfoy's shuddering breaths the only sound besides Charlie's heartbeat roaring in his ears. He wasn't sure he could keep this up for much longer without actually coming all over the kid.

After a few long seconds, Malfoy swallowed and turned to glance over his shoulder again. "_Weasleys_. Blood traitors, every one of you."

Charlie blinked at him, catching the tiny smirk of victory that tugged at the corners of Malfoy's mouth. His palm nearly acted on its own volition after that.

Each crash was all the more satisfying when it hit Malfoy's bare skin instead of the tough fabric of his trousers. His belt jangled around his thighs as he pressed back into Charlie's blows. Charlie's palm stung but a snaking trail of pleasure burned up his arm, settling in his bicep and shoulder and feeding off the eroticism of the entire scene before him. Malfoy was a mess, panting and sweaty and reddened and chafed and hard, oh God, so hard. Charlie's left hand released Malfoy's balls and roughly moved up to fist his prick, tugging it mercilessly as his right hand continued to spank him.

Groaning like a well-paid whore, Malfoy muttered a stream of oaths and encouragements, urging Charlie on. The air in the cabin was suddenly stifling, hot and raw and loud, _loud_, with each crash resonating in Charlie's ears and each pulse of Malfoy's dick heightening Charlie's own arousal. With a sudden, sharp cry, Malfoy's thighs tensed and his dick thickened in Charlie's hand. Hot come coated Charlie's fingers, and he slid it through his fist as Malfoy continued to jerk in his palm.

"Fuck," moaned Malfoy, nearly falling over the back of the sofa. "Weasley... _fuck_." He seemed to collect himself after a moment and turned to Charlie. "Come on, God," he panted, urgency in his eyes. "All over me. Like you said."

Oh, Christ. Charlie lifted his hand away and slid it over his own dick, wet and hot with Malfoy's come. His bruised hand held Malfoy down, pressing over his tailbone and bending him over the back of the sofa like a toy. The angry red flesh of Malfoy's arse looked delicious, fresh and raw and God, how it had made Malfoy moan, spanking him like that, how it had made him shoot into Charlie's hand with a helpless groan, how it had turned him on like nothing Charlie had ever seen in a man before, it all tumbled through Charlie's senses until his own cock thickened in his fist and spurted hot and fast all over Malfoy's skin. Charlie pressed up against him shamelessly, his dick and hand smearing come over Malfoy's cleft and down to his bollocks and oh, Christ, the sounds Malfoy made, pressing back against him and grinding his hips and –

Exhausted, Charlie slumped over Malfoy's back, his forehead damp against Malfoy's wilted shirt. Gulping hot, staccato breaths against Malfoy's shoulder blades, Charlie started to laugh.

"Christ, Malfoy. You kinky little fucker."

*

** _gamble_ **

Stray thoughts about idle hands and devil's work floated across Charlie's mind as his fingertips danced over the bare skin of Draco's back. It had been weeks now, with no signs of slowing. They couldn't get enough of each other. Half-clothed trysts against Charlie's sofa had turned to naked explorations of body parts and desires and hell, even _feelings_, tangled together sweaty and moaning in the warmth of Charlie's bed.

"Hm?" Draco blinked his eyes almost open, his head resting on his folded arms.

"What?" Charlie stilled his fingers.

"You're thinking again. I can tell." Draco lazily moved one index finger to tap at his temple. Dropping it again, he yawned. "It doesn't suit you."

Charlie smacked him lightly, his hand connecting with the curve of muscle where Draco's lower back rose into his arse. Smiling, Draco settled down on his folded arms again and closed his eyes. "Later," he murmured. "Still stings a bit."

"Oh, you poor thing." Charlie rolled his eyes, shuddering as memories of Draco's desperate pleas crashed through his mind again. _Harder, fuck, Charlie. You make me feel– you make me– you– nnng. God, yes, spank me_. He pushed himself up on one elbow to better smooth his hand over Draco's skin. He conjured a bit of healing lotion and rubbed it in gentle circles, drinking in Draco's quiet sighs of pleasure.

When he finished, he lifted his still-tingling hand and gazed at it for a long moment, slowly flexing his fingers and marvelling at how the soft sinew and rough knuckles of such an ugly, simple part of his body could cause such pleasure for both him and his new lover. A _hand_.

Who would have thought?

 

-fin-


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